


Hops

by ColdIntheStudio



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Sex, Beer, Blushing Dean Winchester, Bottom Dean Winchester, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Castiel Acts Like Endverse Castiel (Supernatural), College | University Student Castiel (Supernatural), College | University Student Dean Winchester, Dancing, Destiel Forever Fic Challenge (Supernatural), Dorms, Drunk Castiel (Supernatural), Drunk Dean Winchester, Falling In Love, Festivals, Flashbacks, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Hippie Castiel (Supernatural), Human Castiel (Supernatural), Kissing, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Mild Sexual Content, Protective Dean Winchester, Top Castiel (Supernatural), Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Worried Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:47:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24113788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColdIntheStudio/pseuds/ColdIntheStudio
Summary: In which Dean takes his long time boyfriend Cas to a local beer festival to get Castiel drunk for the first time in his life, and then proceeds to lose Cas in the crowd.
Relationships: Castiel & Dean Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 40
Kudos: 137





	Hops

**Author's Note:**

> I originally wrote this one-shot a loooong time ago for a writing challenge in the Destiel Forever Facebook group, but took it down a few years ago when my other fanfiction Hautley's Bend got plagiarized. I decided to re-post this one today after I found it in my files :) 
> 
> The original prompt someone gave me was:  
> "The first time Dean and Cas go to a festival together. Any time of the year, any season, anything. Must be precious.” 
> 
> Enjoy! :)

*****

**NOW**

Castiel is beautiful.

He’s beautiful when he’s studying, he’s beautiful when he’s sleeping. He’s beautiful when he’s angry, sad, happy, laughing. He’s beautiful when he’s eating.

Castiel will always be beautiful to Dean.

He’s even beautiful when he’s really, really drunk, like right now.

The _City Central Hops Beer Festival_ has been around every summer in Lawrence for as long as Dean can remember. His father used to come here when Dean was a kid, and for the past five or six years, Dean has been coming here too, with college friends, with Sammy, and now with Cas, since he’s old enough to partake in the many dozens of different beers that breweries distribute here to the masses.

Castiel has never been drunk before. Dean doesn’t even think he’s ever seen Castiel take a sip of an alcoholic beverage ever in the four years that they’ve been dating. And now here they are, at the Hops festival, having beer chugging contests with strangers whose names they’ve already forgotten, cheering and laughing and dancing to the live music coming from the big stage set up in the middle of the festival grounds with local bands blaring out rock and smooth alternative.

Today is a good day.

Dean gulps down the dregs if his most recent mug of beer, wiping the back of his hand over his mouth and grinning as he looks over at Castiel, who is just a second or so behind Dean in chugging his latest brew. Castiel licks droplets of beer off his lips as he finally lowers his glass, gasping for breath and laughing. When he looks over at Dean, his eyes are watery with drunkenness, and he’s smiling like an idiot, and Dean loves every second of it.

It’s only the middle of the afternoon, but almost everyone in the mob of five thousand or more festival goers are drunk. The crowd is massive. There are dozens of tents set up all throughout central park, and the giant stage in the middle plays music that can be heard for miles. There are venders selling food and souvenirs out of the backs of their vans, and everyone is dancing and laughing and singing.

It’s insanity. But Dean loves it.

He loves the way the mood of the rowdy crowd is contagious, and the way the sun high up in the blue, blue Kansas sky is shining right down onto Castiel’s face like it was hung for him alone. He loves the way the daylight brightens Castiel’s azure eyes to a glittering cerulean, hazy and glazed over with the effects of the alcohol in his system. His cheeks are flushed a little pink with sunburn and drunkenness, and his hair is even messier than usual.

If Dean ever took a minute to stop and think about it, he’d consider the way Castiel looks right now his own personal heaven. He wraps his arm around Cas, pressing his palm flat against the small of his back, and pulls Castiel in for a sloppy kiss that tastes like bitter hops and electrical storms.

When they pull away a few seconds later, Castiel is smiling lazily at Dean and gripping his sides with uncharacteristically clingy hands. “Are you trying to seduce me, Dean Winchester?” he asks, his words hazy with a bit of a slur as he sways absently to the music floating through the park.

Dean has the audacity to look taken aback. “What? No!” he drawls sarcastically, “That’s just inappropriate.”

Castiel rolls his eyes, because he knows that Dean is as shameless as they come, and would very willingly seduce Cas right here and now in the middle of the crowd if it meant they could get their rocks off. Dean grins and dives in for another kiss, letting his lips linger there for a while. This is nice. This is good.

It’s their first festival together, of any sort, and Dean can’t help but think of all the other firsts he’s shared with Castiel. It’s been a month since they graduated college, and both of them are in that awkward post-graduation stage where they're trying to find their footing in the world, not really sure what to do with their lives now that school is officially a thing of the past.

They've been swallowed by the education system, chewed up and torn apart and filled to the brim, and then regurgitated back into the world with thicker skins and no idea where they are or what the future holds. Like lost little turtles fresh out of the sand.

But being here, at the Hops festival, his arms around Castiel and their lips dragging together slow and languid like there aren’t five thousand drunk festival goers all around them…well, if Dean had to define perfection, this would be it.

He could get used to this life. He really could.

* * *

**_THEN_ **

_The first time he saw Castiel, Dean was sitting at a lab table in his freshman year biology class at the University of Kansas. Dean only took biology to fill in the required science core credit he needed to graduate eventually. He had no interest in science really, but he’d aced biology in high school, so he elected to be safe and just take it again._

_He figured bio class was going to be boring as all hell, and was preparing himself for a semester of doodling in the edges of his notebook and staring at the clock for the entire two hour class period three days a week._

_And then Castiel walked into the room._

_Cas was late for the first biology class. He stumbled into the room a few seconds after the class was scheduled to begin, clutching armfuls of books and looking a little flustered, like the average college freshman on campus the first day of classes. The only seat left in the entire room was the one next to Dean at his lab table, and Dean’s eyes tracked Castiel the entire time Cas walked to the table and sat down, fumbling with his books and papers, hair wild and messy and wind-blown._

_The biology professor wasn’t in the room yet, so Dean took the opportunity to look Castiel over. His first thought was that Castiel was smoking hot. Big, round eyes the color of the sun hitting the ocean, hair like freshly mined coal, skin smooth and olive like a Renaissance painting. Unmarred perfection._

_That was the word that came to mind when Dean saw Castiel: perfection._

_Cas set his belongings on the lab table, and a pencil tucked in between a textbook and stack of papers popped out and rolled off the table onto the floor. Without hesitation, Dean leaned over and picked it up, holding it out to Castiel, and it almost seemed like the first time Castiel even noticed that Dean was sitting there._

_Of course, Dean, being Dean, had to plaster on his most charming smile as they looked at each other, because how was he not supposed to instantly flirt with a guy as hot as Castiel if he had a chance to?_

_“I guess you’re my lab partner,” he said, enjoying the way Castiel’s cheeks flushed pink a bit as he spoke, “I’m Dean.”_

_Castiel blinked at him for a moment, and then reached out, taking the pencil back, their hands brushing together briefly. “Thank you,” he replied, and then cleared his throat a little, shaking himself, “It’s very nice to meet you. I’m Castiel.”_

_Dean took his seat again, shaking Castiel’s hand. “Well, Cas,” he said, “Looks like we’re gonna be spending a lot of time together this semester.”_

* * *

**NOW**

The Hops festival drags on late into the day. Castiel is actually the most entertaining fucking human being on the face of this planet when he gets a little alcohol in his system. Both of them chug down another beer before Cas grabs Dean’s wrist sloppily and drags him out into the mass of people in front of the big stage, some college band from KU playing a rock song Dean’s never heard.

The music isn’t bad, but it’s not something he thinks he can dance to. Although…get enough alcohol in your body, and you can dance to anything. That’s what he’s come to find.

Not everyone is dancing, but there’s a crowd of two hundred or so people in the middle of the field where the stage is, writhing together and swaying, and Castiel doesn’t even pause before dragging Dean over to it, twisting around and twining his fingers with Dean’s.

Dean rolls his eyes, grinning at the flush on Castiel’s cheeks, and even though he’s not exactly a fantastic dancer, he dances with his boyfriend anyway. Because Castiel is worth it. Castiel is worth Dean making an idiot of himself over.

They mostly just shake their hips obscenely and Dean head-bangs once to a hardcore song that comes on before he gets really dizzy and has to sit down for a second. The whole time, he and Castiel are laughing their asses off at nothing in particular while they dance. Castiel is much more touchy than normal, which Dean suspects has something to do with the beer he’s consumed. His hands never leave Dean’s body for a moment. They’re always resting on Dean’s sides, or his shoulders, or tangled in his short, spiky hair.

Dean really wants to drag Cas off to the side and find a shaded corner where they can have a quickie, because he’s at the stage of drunkenness where he’s getting horny and Castiel being as grabby as he is right now is not helping things much. But Cas is laughing, and having the time of his life, head tilted back, staring up into the blue sky and the sun like some kind of god, and Dean just…he doesn’t want this moment to end.

So they stay there, and they dance for a while, singing off-key and bumping into people accidentally. Most of the people dancing here are students from the university. Dean even recognizes some of them, from classes they’ve shared or walking around campus.

Eventually, Castiel just sort of collapses onto the ground, and pulls Dean down next to him. The grass is soft and deep green from a recent rain, and Castiel remarks that the color matches Dean’s eyes when the sun hits them just right. They lay there panting and smiling, looking at each other instead of the sky for a while, not really even caring that their clothes are getting a little wet from the damp park lawn.

When they first got here, Castiel insisted on buying a light blue Hops Beer Fest t-shirt at a stand near the entrance of the festival, which he put on immediately. He said he wanted to make his first festival experience as authentic as possible, which meant buying the damn shirt and wearing it with pride. Castiel has only ever been to lame festivals in the past, as far as Dean knows. Art festivals, and some sort of bluegrass thing in the woods in Nebraska. Dean dragged Cas out to this beer festival today to show him what a real festival is like.

Even though Castiel has never had a beer in his life.

There’s a first for everything, Dean supposes. He’s glad that Cas is going all out. They’ve both lost count of how many different types of beer they’ve tried. Breweries from all over the United States are here distributing their different lagers, ales, and stouts to the thousands of festival attendees.

“Come on,” Dean says, leaning over and nipping playfully at Castiel’s jaw once before tugging his hand, “Let’s go try out the beer from that brewery in Breckenridge.”

Castiel cocks his head, confused, but allows Dean to pull him up from where they were laying on the ground. Dean picks a blade of grass out of Cas’s hair as Castiel asks, “Didn’t we already go to that tent?”

Dean pauses, pursing his lips, and then shrugs. “Whatever, only one way to find out,” he grins, weaving his fingers through Castiel’s and pulling him along through the dancing crowd towards the beer stands.

They have to wait in line for a few minutes, but a drunk middle aged woman strikes up an interesting conversation with Dean while they wait, keeping him occupied. Castiel’s hand is clutched in his for a few minutes, but he lets go when Dean steps up to the makeshift counter to order both of them the most popular Breckenridge beer he can find on the menu, figuring he’ll stay away from the more hoppy brews until Cas gets more used to drinking beer.

The young guy at the counter, who for some reason is wearing German lederhosen and a hat with a feather despite the fact that it’s not Oktoberfest yet (which Dean totally plans on bringing Castiel to later this year now), pours two plastic mugs of beer for them and hands them off to Dean. Dean nods in thanks, dropping a dollar tip into the jar at the counter and grabbing the beers.

When he turns around to hand Cas’s beer to him, Cas isn't standing next to him anymore. 

Dean's eyebrows press together and he glances around the general vicinity of the tent, but Castiel is nowhere to be seen. 

He’s just…gone.

* * *

**_THEN_ **

_The first time Dean and Castiel had sex, it was during one of the worst thunderstorms they’d had in Kansas history. They were in Dean’s dorm room, on his unstable bed with its creaking cheap metal bars and paper thin mattress, and they’d only known each other for a couple of months. They’d started dating the week they met. It was like they just knew how awesome they’d be together._

_They’d fooled around before, blowjobs and sloppy handjobs and grinding at campus parties, but nothing like this. Dean’s roommate was out of town for the weekend, and without even saying anything, both of them knew that this was the night they were going to go all the way._

_The thunder rattled the windows in their tracks, so loud that Dean was almost convinced the glass was going to shatter all over them. They had the shades drawn so that curious eyes didn’t peek in on them, even though Dean’s dorm room was on the second floor, but the strobe-like flashes of lightning still lit up the room like there was a damn paparazzi standing over the bed._

_They didn’t even have to try to be quiet. The thunder and the pouring rain hitting the roof of the dorm hall drowned out their cries and groans of pleasure as they moved together on that crappy bed. Dean half expected the frame to collapse beneath them with how roughly Cas fucked him once they really got started. Maybe it was the storm, the power of the booming thunder, the deafening clarity of the rain drowning the building, the scent of ozone and sex in the air…Dean didn’t know._

_Whatever it was, though, that had transformed his shy, quirky boyfriend of two months into a fucking sex god who knew exactly how to take Dean apart piece by piece, Dean fucking loved it._

_He loved the way Castiel’s gentle hands smoothed down his sides, pinching his nipples into peaks and raising goosebumps all along his bare skin. He loved the way Castiel started out slow, sliding inch by inch into Dean’s well-prepped hole, slippery with too much lube as they panted and stared at each other in what could only be described as awe. He loved the way Castiel leaned down and sucked bruises into his neck, nipped at his jaw, crushed their mouths together roughly as he picked up the pace. In all actuality, it didn’t last very long. Both of them were too shocked at how good it felt to last more than five minutes or so. But it felt like it lasted for eternity. Dean clinging desperately to Cas, clawing at his back and shoulders, his face buried in Cas’s sweaty neck, crying out at every pass Cas’s cock made over his prostate._

_When Castiel grabbed Dean’s straining cock in hand and stroked it, the touch was all it took for Dean to arch off the bed with a loud cry that rivaled the crashing thunder outside, and he was coming, long ropes of white spattering between them, striping his bare chest._

_Castiel was quick to follow, shooting his load deep inside Dean’s clenching hole, his teeth sinking into the patch of skin where Dean’s neck and shoulder met just enough to leave a bruise that lasted for a couple weeks._

_Afterwards, when they were all cleaned up and boneless, they curled up on Dean’s too-small dorm bed, opened the shades, and stared out at the thunderstorm, at the blinding flashes of lightning, blurred by the rivers of rain squirming like snakes down the glass of the window. The crashing of the thunder wasn’t even enough to keep them awake for more than a few minutes, and they fell asleep curled together, loose-limbed and sated._

* * *

**NOW**

Dean has never been the mother hen type. He’s always been a little protective, sure. First it was Sammy when they were growing up, Dean defending his little brother from schoolyard bullies or bad breakups. And now, it’s Castiel. Sammy is away at Stanford in California, already has a sweet girlfriend whom Dean knows Sam is going to marry. So Dean had to find someone else to protect.

But still…Dean’s never been a mother freaking hen.

Until now, that is.

It’s been a little less than an hour since Castiel disappeared from Dean’s side in that Breckenridge brewery line, and Dean can’t find him anywhere. This festival is huge, and while he already knew that, it seems fucking endless now that he can’t find Castiel. He shoves his way through crowds of people, calling Cas’s name, not even stopping for long enough to apologize to the poor people he’s running into, because he’s worried. He’s worried about his smoking hot blue eyed boyfriend lost somewhere in this crowd of five thousand people.

Castiel can take care of himself, sure. Cas is perfectly capable of taking care of himself. He’s very independent.

But Cas is drunk right now. Dean doesn’t think Castiel has ever even been drunk before, which is why Dean’s so worried. Cas is lost in this massive crowd, and he’s intoxicated, and Dean has no idea where he’s disappeared to in his state.

Did someone grab him? Is Cas bound and gagged in the trunk of some pervert’s car right now? Is he lying in the street flattened bloody by some passing delivery van? Is he face-down in a puddle?

Dean is drunk too, and he’s aware that he may be overreacting a little bit (just a little bit) about this whole situation. But Cas is his responsibility. His drunk boyfriend is somewhere out in this crowd, lost and giggly and alone, and people like Cas can get hurt in crowds like these.

Yeah, Dean is definitely overreacting.

But he doesn’t care. He’s too panicked to care.

He shoves his way past another group of college guys in bro-tanks that look like a bunch of douchebags, and fishes his phone out of his pocket again. He’s already called Cas at least a dozen times in the past hour or so since Castiel disappeared, but so far, he’s gotten nothing but voicemail.

He even called Sam a half an hour ago, as if Sam can do anything from California to help Dean find Cas. Sam hadn’t picked up either, and damn it, what is it with people and not answering their freaking phones?

Dean presses his phone to his ear, the endless ringing taunting him as he scans the crowd with his eyes, looking for a flash of dark hair, or blue eyes, or that stupid light blue Hops Beer Fest t-shirt Castiel bought earlier. Of course, hundreds of people are wearing the exact same shirt, so that doesn’t really help much.

“Cas, it’s me again. Pick up your damn phone,” Dean growls when the answering machine picks up his call, “Where the hell are you, man?” He’s probably left Cas at least six or seven messages at this point, but so far, there’s been no reply.

He flips his phone shut in frustration and clutches it in his hand, just in case Castiel happens to call back.

Dean keeps walking until he reaches the edge of the park, and the end of the festival grounds. The crowds here are thinner, people coming and going from the festival, and when he turns back around, he just stands at the edge of it all squinting into the masses, looking for Cas.

This is the fifth time he’s been to this side of the park, and for the past hour he’s just been zigzagging back and forth through the aisles of tents, dodging vendors selling food and beer, groups of people having drinking contests, pushy students with flyers to Save the Rainforest, but no luck. No Castiel.

He takes a minute to catch his breath, wiping sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand, and plucks at his shirt to cool off a bit. It’s summer in Kansas, it’s really fucking hot out here, and running back and forth all over these festival grounds isn’t helping Dean’s core body temperature. Man, he really needs another drink.

But first, he needs to find Cas.

He flips his phone open, dialing Cas’s number again and pressing the device to his ear as he makes his way back towards the squirming crowd, pushing his way through the masses once again.

* * *

**_THEN_ **

_The first time Dean and Cas got an apartment together, it was a tiny little dingy place on the third floor of a complex near the KU campus in Lawrence. The walls had this tacky paper on them that had to have been there since the seventies, and the carpets were rusty-orange, more than a few suspicious stains dotting them._

_But it was still exciting, because it was home. Neither of them had ever had their own place before, and with it being the beginning of their third year at college, they decided that dorm life needed to end, and fast._

_Most of the apartment complexes that rented to students in Lawrence were just as rundown as this one, but they didn’t really mind. A home was a home, and they planned on making the most of it. Even when the toilet all but exploded the very first time one of them tried to flush it._

_They lugged all their belongings up into the third floor apartment in late August when they moved in before the start of junior year. All around them, other students were moving in too, and the whole complex was alive with laughter and the stress of moving day and preparations for the upcoming school year. When they finally had all their half-off thrift store furniture and their minimal boxes of belongings all stacked in the tiny living room of the tiny apartment, they shut the front door, and both of them collapsed against it, sliding to the floor and staring at all the things they still needed to unpack now that they had carried it all up three flights of stairs and into the apartment._

_Dean was surprised at how much this place felt like home, even though it was only the first day they’d been there. They hadn’t even seen their apartment until today, just a sample apartment that the main office showed everyone who was interested in renting here. But this place instantly felt like theirs to Dean. Maybe it had to do with the fact that Castiel was there, and everywhere Castiel was felt like somewhere Dean belonged._

_Maybe the reason Dean felt so at home there was because, to him, Castiel was his home._

_And when he suggested, with a waggle of his eyebrows, that they christen the place, as tradition calls, Castiel hadn’t declined, and they’d torn each other’s clothing off in record time and fucked right there on the rusty orange carpet with its many suspicious stains, and hadn’t even bothered to unpack anything that night because they were too busy marking their territory against every wall, and on every available surface, in every single room of their tiny little apartment._

_Of their tiny little home._

* * *

**NOW**

Dean gets the idea to pull up a relatively clear picture of Castiel on his phone to try to show it around to the other festival goers, just in case any of them have seen Castiel in the past hour. He’s pretty damn sure he’s going crazy at this point, because he’s acting as though Castiel has been missing for days, when really he’s only been missing from Dean’s side for an hour or so. But every minute that ticks by feels like a year, so he interrupts every conversation he can find, bothers every person he sees, showing them the picture and asking if they’ve seen Castiel.

Every single person he asks shakes their head no.

And while that’s incredibly frustrating to Dean - he’s pretty sure none of them actually look very closely at the picture on Dean’s phone at all – he knows it’s only realistic. With so many thousands of people here, the chances of finding someone who not only has seen Cas in the past hour, but also remembers his face clearly, is next to nothing.

However, with so many thousands of people here at this beer festival, it’s extremely likely that at least a few of these people have seen Castiel recently. So Dean doesn’t lose hope. He just keeps on looking.

He approaches a group of women who look like they’re in their late twenties, all of them standing in a circle and chatting while sipping beers from a brewery in some state that starts with an I. Dean clears his throat and asks them politely (trying to keep the panic out of his voice) if any of them have seen the man in this picture. He holds his phone up for them, shielding the screen from the sun so they can all get a close look at the picture of Cas.

All of them shake their head and say they’re sorry, and that they hope Dean finds his friend. Dean thanks them, even though that’s exactly what the past three hundred people he’s asked have said, if they were sober enough to speak clearly.

He turns away and asks the next crowd he sees, a group of college seniors that he recognizes from campus. He’s been trying to find people that he recognizes a bit from KU, hoping that maybe one of them knows Cas well enough to have recognized him, picked him out of the crowd. But there are so many people here, Dean only runs into a few people from KU that he recognizes.

No one is any help at all.

Dean wanders up and waits in line at a few of the tents, and asks the people serving beer and food whether they’ve seen Cas, showing them all the picture. One man, with a thick white beard and a bandana, says Cas looks familiar, but that so many customers come through here that it’s hard to say. He apologizes that he’s not more helpful and offers Dean a free beer, like that will help him find his boyfriend.

Even though Dean is worried, panicked, wondering where the hell Cas disappeared to, he still doesn’t turn down the free beer. Who in the hell turns down free beer? He stands there in the shade for a couple minutes, keeping an eye out for Castiel as he chugs the blessedly cold beverage to soothe his dry throat.

When he finishes, he actually does feel a little bit better, but he blames that on the alcohol as he throws his cup away, nodding his thanks to the bearded vendor and starting off through the crowds once again. He shows anyone and everyone the picture on his phone, asking around, and wonders to himself how his awesome afternoon with Castiel at this festival, so quickly became such a wild goose chase. Where the hell is Cas?

* * *

**_THEN_ **

_The first time Dean and Castiel had a real fight, Dean forgot what the fight was about halfway through the arguing. He liked to pretend he was a good fighter, but in all reality, he was horrible at comebacks, and could only stand there rolling his eyes and occasionally breaking things while Castiel yelled at him._

_Their anger was so pure, like freshly polished marble and molten metal dipped in ice water. Dean had just gotten home from his art class that he decided randomly to take just for the sake of taking it. His hands were covered in paint, and all he wanted was to take a shower, but instead he was standing in the tiny living room of their apartment, arguing with Castiel._

_The fight was all over the place. Dean broke a lamp, because he had always been impulsive like that, but he didn’t really know after a while what specifically they were fighting about. Was it the fact that he left dishes in the sink? Or the fact that the cable was broken again? Or the fact that they were behind on rent? He didn’t know, and they were both shouting about nothing, to be frank._

_Castiel was gorgeous when he was angry. His cheeks grew flushed, his mouth twisted in a snarl, and his eyes grew thunderous, like he had storms brewing in his very soul. He didn’t get angry often, only stern or quiet. But when he let out the rage, he was a force to be reckoned with. He never broke anything, but the electricity that tangled with the words that left his mouth was enough to make Dean consider cowering in the dark corners of his mind where words could never hurt him._

_It was actually fucking hot, the way Cas acted when he was angry. He sort of acted the same way when they were having sex – dominant, powerful, wrathful. Like a mistreated god._

_Dean eventually stopped arguing, and just let Castiel yell, and when Cas finally ran out of steam, they both just stood there face to face, staring at each other and panting from the exertion of fighting. They were inches apart, noses practically touching, and Dean watched as Castiel’s angry eyes flickered up to his forehead._

_Then all at once, Castiel brought his hand up and wiped his thumb over the center of Dean’s forehead. His thumb came away with a smear of paint. Dean looked at it and then wiped at his own forehead where Castiel had just rubbed the paint away. Dean must not have been very careful in art class that day, and had somehow managed to get paint on his face._

_They both looked at the paint on Cas’s thumb for a moment, and then looked at each other. After a few seconds, without another word, they both silently stooped down together and started picking up the shards of the lamp Dean had broken, the fight already forgotten. Both of them already forgiven._

* * *

**NOW**

Dean makes his way back towards the giant stage in the middle of the festival grounds again, still searching for Cas, still showing people his picture, asking around, hoping. It’s been over an hour now since he and Castiel were separated in that Breckenridge line, and so far, he hasn’t gotten any calls from him, hasn’t gotten a glimpse of that wild hair. Hasn’t had any luck at all.

Dean is still fairly drunk, but he manages to keep his footing as he weaves around people and rushes back out in front of the stage where festival goers are dancing still to a new band playing up there now. This band has more of a new age sort of feel to them, and in turn, all the hipsters and hippies are out dancing to the music instead of the regular average Joe college students and beer fanatics.

Not a single person looks the same in this audience here. There are girls in crop tops and long skirts with flowers in their waist-length hair, and guys wearing only ratty harem pants with dirt under their nails and thickly dreaded locks. There are elderly couples with leathery skin from being out in the sun too much, with big hats and ankle-length dresses, holding hands and singing to the music.

There are animals. There are big, shaggy dogs with bandanas around their necks and a girl walking a ferret around on a leash. It’s madness. It’s brilliance. Despite his worry, Dean can’t help but snort a little laugh, because Castiel would love all these people. And maybe Cas is in this crowd here somewhere, dancing with a group of girls that look like sirens, stoned off his ass.

“Great, all the crazies have come outta their holes,” Dean mutters to himself, dodging a guy that looks like Bob Marley twirling a hula hoop on his arm, and another group of girls who are wearing plastic beaded bracelets all the way up to their elbows like they’re at a rave instead of a beer festival.

He maneuvers through groups of people seated on blankets in the grass, drinking beer and chatting, scanning every face he sees, hoping to spot Cas somewhere, talking drunkenly with some people having a picnic or something. He avoids the crowd towards the front of this clearing where the stage is, doesn’t want to get pulled into the dancing, but he does stand on his toes and peer into the writhing masses in search of Cas.

When he makes it to the other side of the performance area, he starts asking around again, where the music is a little quieter. He shows Castiel’s picture to a few people loitering on the sidelines, and has about as much luck as he did before. Nobody has seen Castiel. Nobody knows where he is. Sorry, man, hope you find him. Good luck. Same thing, every person he asks.

Until he finds someone who has a different answer.

“Yeah! I just saw that guy!” she says. Dean’s eyes widen and he perks up a bit as he looks down at the girl in front of him.

“Are you sure? You’re sure this is the guy?” he asks, showing her the picture again, and she nods, taking another gulp of the beer in her hand and waving to someone over Dean’s shoulder. Dean glances back and sees another girl walking up, probably a friend of hers.

“Yup, that’s him,” she confirms, and then points over towards the back of the crowd where several vans are parked on the grass, selling food and souvenirs out of their open side doors, “He was standing in front of me in line over at that flower vendor.”

Dean glances back, squinting at the van where there’s a short line of people buying flower crowns. When he looks back down at the girl, she points to the flower crown on her own head. “He bought this for me,” she says, “The guy was totally wasted, but it was sweet.”

Dean smiles a little, chuckling because that sounds just like something Castiel would do, buying a flower crown for some stranger at a beer festival. “How long ago?” he asks her, and she shrugs, taking another drink of her beer.

“Couldn’t have been more than five minutes ago,” she states, and Dean practically melts with relief.

“Thank you,” he says, “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” He grabs the girl and gives her a hug, startling a little yelp out of her, and doesn’t even pause to see the surprised look on her face before turning and jogging towards the flower crown van where Castiel was last seen. He pulls out his phone again, just to call Cas one more time. Maybe Cas is still hanging out around the van over here, buying flower crowns for unsuspecting strangers.

When he reaches the van, Dean searches all around it, even going so far as to get down and peer under the van, like maybe Cas is laying on the grass beneath it sleeping off all the beer he’s had today. He asks the flower crown vendor, and the guy laughs and says that Castiel just walked away a few minutes ago, after buying flower crowns for at least a dozen people. Dean curses under his breath, looking around, hoping to catch a glimpse of Castiel’s back as he walks away somewhere else. Maybe Cas has been looking for Dean this whole time too?

Dean is just stepping away from the van to head back towards the tents, when the music on the stage abruptly cuts out. Through the dull roar of the crowd, Dean suddenly hears a voice calling his name over the loud speaker. 

And Dean would know that voice anywhere.

* * *

**_THEN_ **

_The first time Dean realized he was in love with Cas, it was the middle of their senior year at KU, and the time and place was as unremarkable as it could possibly have gotten. They were sitting in a campus coffee shop. Dean insisted they go to campus shops instead of Starbucks in town, saying that Starbucks was stuffy and all the spoiled douchebags went there. So Castiel and Dean went to this particular campus coffee shop every time they needed to cram for their tests or just catch up on homework they’d procrastinated on for the past week._

_They were sitting at a table across from each other, books spread out, deep in concentration, coffee long gone cold and undrinkable, approaching hour four of sitting there studying, and Dean set down his pencil for a moment, just to stretch. He happened to glance up at Castiel where Cas had his nose buried in a textbook, brow furrowed in deep concentration, full force study mode._

_And that was it. That was when Dean knew it._

_He was in love with Castiel._

_Nothing particularly special occurred in that very moment. He just happened to look up, take in the sight of Cas hunched over his books, hair mussed from running his hand through it one too many times, dark eyelashes fanning down across his cheeks where his eyes were lowered reading line after line of information from his book._

_And that was it. That was all it took for Dean to realize._

_He probably knew for a long time, to be honest, but it was that day, sitting in that coffee shop, schoolwork spread out before them on the too-small table, cold coffee in front of them, the dull murmur of other patrons relaxing around them, that Dean admitted it to himself._

_And he just sat there for a while staring at Castiel. Cas, of course, was completely oblivious to the attention he was receiving, too caught up in whatever not-so-interesting thing he was reading and memorizing, but Dean sat there and stared at him for a while just in awe._

_It scared him a little, because maybe Cas didn’t love him back, and maybe Dean was setting himself up for one serious case of heartbreak._

_But he let those thoughts slide for a while, and just enjoyed the way the winter sun shining through the windows of the coffee shop made Castiel’s skin look like smoked porcelain, and made his hair look like shattered onyx._

_Castiel was worth this risk. Cas was worth this risk to Dean’s heart. Dean couldn’t sit there and pretend like this feeling twisting his chest and raining butterflies through his guts was just a fleeting thought. He couldn’t sit there and pretend that he wasn’t in love with Castiel. Once he fell in love, he couldn’t stop it, and Castiel was worth that risk, that final step Dean was taking deep in his psyche where losing Cas would utterly destroy him, and keeping Cas would fill him with so much happiness it almost felt too selfish to be so happy in a world where there was so much fucking pain._

_Castiel was worth that risk._

_And Dean was so in love he could feel it like a wildfire in his marrow._

* * *

**NOW**

“Dean Winchester! Are you out there? I’m looking for Dean!”

Dean whirls around when he hears his name being called over the loud speakers, because that’s Castiel’s voice calling his name. He squints towards the stage and his eyes nearly bug out of his head, because Castiel is up on the stage.

What the hell is he doing?

Cas is shielding his eyes from the sun, ignoring the few people in the crowd booing at him and calling out for the band to keep playing their music. The members of the band are just sort of standing there, letting the crazy drunk guy on stage call all the shots.

Holy shit. Castiel actually just stopped a concert just to call Dean’s name over the loud speakers. And is he wearing a fucking flower crown?

“Dean! If you’re out there, wave your arms!” Castiel says into the microphone again. The lead singer of the band on stage is standing next to him, and he looks like he’s laughing. People are looking around, and even the band members are squinting into the crowd looking for whoever this Dean guy is that the crazy drunk man on stage is calling out for.

Dean just gapes at Castiel for a few seconds before snapping out of it. Cas can’t see him. Dean is standing way at the back of the crowd near the vans still, and there are probably nearly a thousand people between himself and Castiel right now. A slow, amused grin spreads across his face, even though he’s really fucking confused as to what’s happening, and what the hell Castiel thinks he’s doing on stage.

Dean raises one hand, waving it, and a couple people around him notice him waving and point to him. Castiel doesn’t see them, even when a couple of them shout “Over here!” towards the stage where Castiel is still busy squinting into the crowd.

Dean waves both arms for a moment, but despite the help of the few people around him that see him waving to Cas on stage, Castiel still doesn’t spot him. More people in the crowd are booing and chanting for the music to start up again, and Dean sees a couple security guards making their way towards the stage where Cas is interrupting the performance, to get Castiel down so the show can go on.

Crap. Dean’s never going to get to the stage before those security guys. He’s worried that if the security guys pull Castiel off the stage, that Cas will disappear into the crowds again and Dean will be searching for the rest of the afternoon for his lost, drunken boyfriend.

“Dean Winchester! I’m looking for Dean! Are you out there?” Castiel’s voice comes again over the speakers.

Dean snaps into action, looking around, searching for a chair or something to stand on, or a flag to grab and wave it so Castiel can see him. For some reason, he thinks that maybe if Cas sees him, the security guys might leave him alone, or maybe at least bring Castiel over here to him.

But there’s nothing around Dean that he could use to elevate himself, get Cas to notice him.

“Buddy! Over here!” he hears a voice call out to him, and Dean looks back to see the flower crown vendor leaning out of his van, “Climb up here, he’ll spot you.”

Dean takes one last glance at the stage and then jogs back to the van, thanking the flower crown vendor and hoisting himself up onto the roof of the van. When he’s got his feet planted securely on the metal roof, he starts waving his arms widely, hoping Cas will catch a glimpse of him. Several people on the ground around the van are shouting to Cas on the stage, pointing to Dean, and dozens of people are looking back at what all the commotion is. 

“Cas!” Dean shouts, as loud as he can, waving his arms, “What the hell are you doing!”

Castiel looks confused for a moment when he hears all the people around the van shouting “Over here!” and “This way!”, but then his eyes finally fall on Dean standing on top of the van, and a big grin explodes across his face.

“Dean! There you are! I’ve been looking for you!” Castiel laughs into the microphone, leaning a little too far to the right and causing the squealing, high-pitched feedback sound to ring out over the audience. People wince and cover their ears until Cas straightens up again, muttering a small “sorry,” into the microphone. His flower crown almost falls off and he reaches up to adjust it.

“Cas, get off the stage!” Dean shouts, although he’s not really sure if Castiel can hear him since they’re pretty far apart. He can’t help but laugh a little, because of all the things he expected to happen at this beer festival today, Castiel getting drunk and jumping up on stage is not one of them.

“Dean, I have to tell you something,” Castiel says into the microphone, his voice a little slurred with drunkenness, and Dean rolls his eyes.

“Then why don’t you come over here and tell me?” Dean mutters to himself, chuckling a little because Castiel is talking to him over the loud speaker like Dean is the only one who can hear him, when in all actuality, there are thousands of people standing here listening to every word he’s saying. A few members of the crowd are still booing, yelling at Castiel to get off the stage, chanting for the music to resume. Dean watches as the security guards jump up on the stage and start trying to beckon Castiel to come with them.

They exchange a few words that nobody can hear for a moment, and then Castiel shakes his head a little, holding up a hand briefly and leaning in towards the microphone again. “If you would please…I just…I have something to say,” Castiel says over the loud speaker, and Dean laughs as he sees the security guards shaking their heads.

“Dean,” Castiel says, and Dean locks eyes with him from where he’s still standing on the van, “Dean, my life began when I met you.”

Oh God, what is he doing? Dean would be face-palming so hard right now if he wasn’t too busy laughing at the way Castiel keeps inching away from the security guys so he can get his speech in, whatever he’s trying to say.

The people in the crowd who were booing stop when Castiel speaks, and Dean watches as the lead singer of the band steps between Castiel and the security guards, holding up his hands like he’s reasoning with them. The security guys sigh and cross their arms over their chests, and after a couple moments, nod reluctantly, and the lead singer turns back around, grinning at Cas, looking like he’s giving him the go ahead.

“Thank you,” Castiel tells them with a nod, swaying a little, and then looks back out across the crowd at where Dean is standing.

“Dean, my life began when I met you,” Castiel says again, and Dean rolls his eyes, snorting.

“Yeah, you already said that dude,” Dean mutters to himself.

“I don’t remember what my life was like before we started dating,” Castiel continues, and by now most of the audience has stopped booing or talking, and everyone is just quiet and listening to Castiel’s speech, “You picked up my pencil in biology class freshman year, and the first thing I thought was…you have the most beautiful hands I have ever seen.”

Dean raises one eyebrow as the audience chuckles, looking between the two of them. What the hell is Cas doing?

“And the day you asked me out for the first time was the best day of my life,” Castiel goes on, “I was having a bad day. I failed my first test of my college career, but then you came to my dorm room and asked me out with that little note in the margin of our biology project, and everything got better.”

Dean blushes bright red, his eyes flickering away from Cas for a moment and to the people in the crowd. A few of them are “awwing” and people are looking back at Dean and grinning.

“And then the thunderstorm happened, and you were the most amazingly beautiful person I had ever laid eyes on in my entire life, even if the bed was too small for both of us,” Castiel continues, and Dean blushes even brighter. 

No filter. Cas has _no filter_ when he’s drunk.

Oh please don’t let him start talking about their sex life over the loud speaker.

“It’s only been four years, and I feel like I’ve known you my entire existence,” Castiel says, holding the microphone stand in both hands, that stupid flower crown on his head, “And I’ve come to realize in the past year that you’re not just a part of my life anymore, Dean. You are my life.”

The entire crowd starts cheering, whistling and “awwing”, and Dean is so fucking red right now he feels like his face is going to spontaneously combust. But he can’t help the grin that tugs at the corners of his mouth, because Castiel isn’t usually this sappy, and it’s making Dean’s stomach do somersaults despite his embarrassment.

How did today go from Dean frantically searching for his lost, drunken boyfriend, to thousands of people listening to Castiel bare his soul over a loud speaker on a stage he’s not even supposed to be on?

When the crowd quiets down enough, Castiel smiles, staring right into Dean’s eyes, and even though they’re so far apart, Dean still feels like he’s the only one Cas can see right now.

“I’m in love with you,” Cas states, earning him more cheers and whistles from the drunk audience, “I have been for a very long time, maybe since the day I met you.”

Dean bites his lip to keep from smiling too wide. His hands are shaking a little because he’s so embarrassed, and he’s still blushing bright red, but this is the first time Cas has ever told Dean he loves him. Sure, he’s shown Dean, in many ways, that he loves him. There are ways to say I Love You without actually saying the words. But it feels surprisingly raw to hear the words spoken out loud.

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. And…and I have a question for you,” Castiel continues, taking a breath and rocking back on his heels a little, smiling drunkenly.

Dean blanches. Oh God, is this what he thinks it is? Is Cas actually about to do this? Right here? In the middle of a crowd of thousands of people at a beer festival?

“Will you marry me?”

Apparently so.

Dean stands there frozen, blinking, his dumbstruck brain trying to process what Castiel just asked. His ears are ringing a little bit, and every member of the audience, save for a crying baby somewhere and a couple girls giggling in the flower crown line in front of the van Dean’s standing on, has gone dead silent. Dean stares at Castiel wide-eyed for a moment, and then his eyes trail over the audience. Everyone is looking back at him, staring at him expectantly, and if Dean thought he was imagining Castiel popping the question just now, all the anticipatory eyes on him right now would have proven him wrong.

Dean blinks, looking back up at where Cas is still standing on the stage. Even the security guys next to him are looking at Dean, waiting for an answer.

Oh my God, Dean thinks, Castiel just proposed to me!

He feels a little lurch in his stomach, a ball of nerves and excitement as that sinks in. Oh my God! This is actually happening! He swallows a few times, lubricating his dry throat, and he considers speaking for a moment, shouting his answer across the crowd to Castiel, but he’s not sure he can form the word right now.

So he stands there dumbly for a moment. And then he does it.

He nods. Yes.

The crowd erupts into applause, cheering and whistling, and Castiel grins widely on the stage. As soon as Dean accepts the proposal, he smiles too, still a little lost, not really sure whether he’s dreaming or not. He huffs a little laugh, watching as Castiel steps around the microphone and jumps off the stage, jogging in the direction of the van Dean is standing on.

Dean glances around his feet and accepts the help of a few people on the ground to get him down from on top of the van. Then he’s jogging towards where he last saw Castiel too.

Everyone in the crowd steps out of his way, parting like the Red Sea, creating a path for him, and they’re all clapping and cheering like their favorite football team just won the Super Bowl or something, like seeing a gay dude drunkenly propose to his boyfriend is the most spectacular thing they’ve ever seen. Maybe everyone’s just really, really drunk.

That’s Dean’s theory anyway.

He meets Castiel halfway, and without hesitation, they all but crash into each other, crushing their lips together in an almost painful kiss.

Dean doesn’t even care that the audience is watching, barely hears it when the cheering gets louder and people start clapping him on the back in congratulations. He’s smiling like an idiot, kissing Castiel like something out of a fucking chick flick, and he’s so damn happy right now he can’t even see straight.

When they pull away from the kiss for a moment, Dean laughs, taking in the watery drunkenness in Castiel’s big blue eyes that Dean loves so much. “If I knew getting you drunk would make you do this, I would’ve given you alcohol years ago!” Dean shouts over the loud cheering of the crowd.

Castiel laughs and kisses Dean again, and while they’re kissing there, the band on the stage takes up their instruments and starts playing again where they left off. Dean and Cas stand there kissing for just a few more minutes, and Castiel is the first to end it, reaching down and unhooking a flower crown from his belt loop that Dean hadn’t noticed before, and lifting it up, placing it on Dean’s head. It matches the one Castiel is wearing, and Dean knows Cas got it from the vendor at the van at the back of the crowd.

“Just until we get some proper rings,” Castiel explains, and Dean chuckles, reaching up and touching the dorky flower crown on his head with his fingertips for a moment, and then taking Castiel’s hands, pecking him again on the lips because he just can’t help it. Cas is so getting laid tonight.

“So ,you’re not just gonna regret this when you sober up, are you?” Dean asks, studying Cas’s face as the people in the audience around them turn their attentions back to the band on stage, dancing and drinking and leaving Dean and Castiel to their business in the middle of the festival grounds.

Castiel huffs an alcohol-scented laugh and leans in, resting his forehead against Dean’s for a moment, sighing contently. “Not a chance,” he replies.

* * *

The first time Dean gets married, he knows it’s going to be the last. Castiel is beautiful, as always, on their wedding day three months later, both of them wearing inexpensive rental tuxedos. It’s a simple wedding, kind of cheap because they’re both still mere penniless post-graduate working world folk trying to find their reason and place.

Sam and Jessica fly out from California to attend, and all of Dean and Castiel’s friends from KU are there. For now, since neither of them can really afford rings, they stick to the flower crowns from the beer festival, and exchange those, and vows, in the middle of the city park in Lawrence where the Hops festival is held every year.

Over all, it’s a success, even if Dean stammers and blushes his way through his vows and rolls his eyes when Sammy whistles the loudest during their kiss.

While the small group of friends and family in attendance clap and set off party poppers that Sam no doubt handed out before the ceremony began, Dean leans in close to Cas’s ear with a sly grin.

“I can’t wait to see what you have planned for Oktoberfest,” he mutters, and Castiel nudges him in the ribs with his elbow, chuckling.

“Oh, I think you’ll be satisfied,” he replies.


End file.
